Of all the people who have crossed Leah Chase's path in her 75 years, she has never forgotten a soft-spoken man who sat in a corner of a New Orleans cemetery, doing his simple job: knocking mortar off old bricks before others used them in walkways.

Nobody paid attention to what he did, the man told her, because all the attention was fixed on the bricklayers' precision. But, he said, he had this consolation: "Before they can do their job, I have to do mine."

This is the way Chase, a lover of beautiful things, has lived her life. Because she can't draw a straight line, sing a note or wax poetic, Chase said her purpose in life is to do what she can for those who make life beautiful.

"It helps, and that's what everybody should do, " she said. "That's what I try to tell people. I learned how important it was and how good it made you feel. You don't need all the talent in the world. Whatever you can do to make the world better for people to live in, you do."

In recognition of her continuous striving to live up to that goal, Chase has been selected to receive The Times-Picayune Loving Cup for 1997.

The Loving Cup has been awarded since 1901 to women and men who have worked unselfishly for the community without expectation of public recognition or material reward.

When she got the news, "I was overwhelmed, really, " Chase said. "It's just great. I know there are a lot of people in this city who did a whole lot more than I did. They give of their money; they give of their time. I haven't been idle, but these people have done far more."

As she spoke, she was surrounded by some of her favorite paintings in a quiet, cozy back room at Dooky Chase's, the Orleans Avenue restaurant her husband's family started in 1941. A bright Jacob Lawrence canvas hung on a nearby wall, and Gilbert Fletcher's depiction of a field of bluebonnets was in her line of sight.

Chase scheduled the midmorning conversation to be finished in time for her to head to the restaurant's kitchen to help prepare lunch. She has presided there for 52 years, cooking up countless vats of jambalaya, gallons of gumbo and miles of sausage, seasoning her creations with sassafras leaves from a tree her father planted.

Chase has served on the boards of organizations such as the New Orleans Museum of Art, where she is an honorary life trustee, as well as the Arts Council of New Orleans, the Children's Museum, the Urban League of Greater New Orleans and the Greater New Orleans Foundation, which matches donors with activities that need money. But her community service is grounded in something much more basic than putting in time on boards, said Linetta Gilbert, the foundation's vice president for programs.

"She gives of what she has, " Gilbert said. "She's not pretentious about it. What she has to give are her cooking and her time."

"If you're doing your part, she figures she'll do her part, " said John Scott, the artist and Xavier University professor, who has known her since his parents took him to the restaurant as a teen-ager.

Chase, a cookbook author with a national reputation, opened Dooky Chase's doors to civil-rights workers in the 1950s and early 1960s, when black people couldn't get into many of the city's restaurants.

She has brought meals to struggling artists, and she has catered their openings so they could offer hospitality to the people who showed up to admire their creations. She has helped them pay their bills, and she has hung their works on the restaurant's walls to bring their art to the attention of thousands of people the artists never could have hoped to reach otherwise.

Much of her work is private, and she refuses to flaunt it. But in 1994, Chase went public in a big way when she trekked to Washington to plead for the survival of the National Endowment for the Arts.

"For me, " she told a House subcommittee, "support of the arts is an investment in the artistic excellence of my people, an investment in the education of the neighborhood kids, who, like me a time ago, needed to see something beautiful and breathtaking in order to aspire to higher things and to value living more."

Chase, who counts Gen. George S. Patton and George Washington Carver among her heroes, is "a woman of tremendous courage who'll always stand up for what she believes is right, " said Susan Mintz, a longtime friend. "I think people know she cares. When you're around Leah, you know she's the real thing."

The finer things in life

Leah Lange Chase, the oldest of 14 children, was born in poverty in Madisonville. Her first exposure to art came in childhood, while she was in New Orleans for surgery on her feet. Because her parents were determined that nothing interrupt their children's education, young Leah was enrolled temporarily in a New Orleans school, where instruction in the arts was part of the curriculum.

"That was quite an experience for me, " she said. "At first, I hated it, but then I began to see things that they taught. They taught music appreciation, too. You listened to symphonic music and were tested on that."

From that point on, "I always liked the finer things in life, " Chase said. "You get to appreciate things. . . . Sometimes you learn that you can't afford the finest things. You can make believe, and it's all right to make believe. It's all right to enjoy. I never wanted all the things in life for myself; I just wanted to enjoy them."

Years later, another important influence in her arts education was Celestine Cook, a powerful force in the black community who was on New Orleans Museum of Art's board.

"She knew in her mind that it was more than bread and water that people had to live on, " Chase said. "Everybody's going to feed the body, but how many people are going to stop and feed the mind? That's what the arts do. She taught me that, and I remember her always for that."

That process of educating people to follow an example of community service is vital, she said. "They lead you through; you pull other people through. You work, and you keep working, and you don't give up, and you keep pulling other people through, and that's what we have to do to make this city work."

When Cook went off the museum board in 1977, Chase succeeded her for the first of several six-year terms.

As a trustee, Chase has helped attract more African-Americans to the museum and to its corps of volunteers, and she has been instrumental in building up its collection of African-American art, said John Bullard, its director.

In January, Chase celebrated her 75th birthday there with a party for 400 that was dedicated to raising money to buy more works by African-American artists. Swathed in purple, she reveled in the gathering, where her husband, Edgar "Dooky" Chase Jr., played trumpet and her daughter, Leah Chase Kamata, performed. She has three other children, 16 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.

"Bless her heart, she even made her family pay, " said Sharon Litwin, the museum's assistant director for development. "It raised $30,000, and it was a hell of a party."

The party was one of a series of honors, which have included two awards from the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Weiss Award from the National Conference of Christians and Jews, the Torch of Liberty Award from the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith, the University of New Orleans' Entrepreneurship Award and the Outstanding Woman Award from the National Council of Negro Women.

And early in this decade, the photographer Brian Lanker shot her portrait for "I Dream a World: Portraits of Black Women Who Changed America." She was in good company; among the 75 pictured in the traveling exhibit - and an accompanying book - were Lena Horne, Marian Anderson, Leontyne Price, Wilma Rudolph and Oprah Winfrey.

"To me, that was really something, " Chase said, smiling. "It was a joy to be with those people. You just felt a good feeling to be around people who had done so much."

Whatever she has become, John Scott said, Chase has always been a hard-working woman. Because work comes first, Chase said, she is cutting back on board memberships, but she is still ready to serve, generally by preparing food for all sorts of events.

"I tell them, 'I may not sit on your board, but here I am. I can do something for you, ' " she said. "Sometimes in the kitchen, we're doing charity work all over the place. . . . I have to do something, and I tell that to people. Sometimes you have to stretch a little bit, and you have to give 'til it hurts sometimes, but then it really feels good because you've done what you had to do."